Francis Scott Key
The author of our national anthem was not free when he wrote the words he felt as a prisoner aboard a British warship. The British bombardment of Ft. McHenry threatened the very existence of the nascent United States of America. He spent the night worrying if his beloved country would even exist the next morning. Imagine his joy when, despite an all-night attack he saw his nation’s flag still flying. Put yourself in his position.
I was deployed to Mogadishu, Somalia in October, 1993. Sword Base led the “hit parade” for having the most mortar and sniper fire from Aideed’s Habir Gedir clan. The Quartermaster battalion commander personified Captain Queeg. Luckily I didn’t report to him. One morning a gate guard ran up to me and said one of the flatbed trailers carrying a Russian tank turret had slipped and taken the top off of a Volkswagen bus full of Somali civilians. Queeg, in his infinite wisdom, decided to move the Russian tanks used as targets during the heyday of the Russian tank factory we were now living in off the premises and deposited along 21 October Road directly across from our east wall. It provided excellent cover and concealment for close-up sniping.
I ran to the aid station adjacent to the main gate and told Doc Hansen what had happened. Without a moment’s hesitation (and against orders from the UNOSOM commander – a three star) he grabbed his bag and ran out the main gate. On a daily basis there were fifty to a hundred Somalis milling about the main gate. We knew a few of them were Aideed’s men and armed. The gate guards hesitated but Doc ordered them to open the gate and disappeared into that howling mob. I stood there stunned until I saw his blue, UN baseball hat being tossed in the air.
I was only armed with a Beretta 9mm pistol but I dove into the mass to get to the Doc. My weapons man, SSG Pherigo, was right behind me with his AR-15. Some Somalis had formed a protective circle around Doc as he knelt to exam a rather large Somali woman lying conscious on the hot asphalt. A hole gouged her forehead exposing brain matter. Her left eye was hanging onto her cheek. Doc yelled for a stretcher and my medic returned to the aid station to get it. Several other medics assigned under Queeg returned with him to help carry the injured woman inside the gate. Queeg did not want to help the woman and refused to request a medevac helicopter. Doc got on the phone and a Blackhawk with a Red Cross on it arrived in minutes. She was patched up by the Swedish medical staff and survived with restored vision.
The general had given Doc a direct order not to go outside the gate. Doc was “short” big time – due to rotate back to the States for a plum assignment and was on the promotion list for Lieutenant Colonel. That was the last thing on his mind when he went out that gate.
The Somali woman happened to be the mother of a Habir Gedir sub-clan leader who wanted to separate from Aideed but was unsure how to do so safely. A couple of days after his mother returned, another gate guard approached me and told me that leader was outside the gate with a delegation from Ali Mahdi’s clan to talk peace. The sniper and mortar fire stopped.
I was a Marine in Vietnam and watched the American flag lowered as we retreated to the States. Twenty two years later I’m rushing out the gate of Sword Base into a mass of Somalis. Halfway through the mob I stopped and turned back and yelled at the gate guards to send the Quick Reaction Force out. Queeg countermanded that request. I thought “What the !@#$ am I doing here?” Then I saw the American flag waving over the guard tower and that still, small voice, the Comforter, spoke in my mind “You’re an American.”
Only two words are needed to explain why we should keep The Star Spangled Banner as our national anthem: Strive and Soar. Sure, the anthem is difficult to sing at certain points. It takes effort to reach the high notes. Sometimes, for those who love this country, reaching the high notes isn’t just physical. It’s only when we strive and arrive that our spirits soar.
“Song is the noblest, the most intimate, the most complete manner of self expression known to mankind. As the power to express grows, so the higher ideals of life develop and the greatest and most subtle influences which make for culture come to have full sway. Rightly has the voice been called “God’s own instrument.” – The Art of Song by Oscar Saenger, 1915.
Not coincidentally an anthem is defined as 1. a rousing or uplifting song identified with a particular group, body, or cause; and 2. a choral composition based on a biblical passage…
The Star Spangled Banner is not only an anthem – it’s a hymn. Let’s keep it.
